


Waiting

by Heather



Category: Drive (TV 2007), Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Hospital
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-29
Updated: 2007-07-29
Packaged: 2017-10-08 03:54:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/72434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heather/pseuds/Heather





	Waiting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [green_wing](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=green_wing).



  
Sam has always hated hospitals. Not the way Dean hates hospitals, where it's almost impossible to talk him into going to one--_like now,_ Sam thinks with a roll of his eyes. _He broke his whole stupid hand and didn't want to go to the hospital. Did he think the bones were going to set themselves?_

Even still, though, Sam doesn't like them, either. They're the places people come to be sick, to die. They're also places where clowns tend to visit. Yeah. Sam Winchester, not a hospital fan.

He turns the page in his copy of the March 1997 issue of Reader's Digest and shifts himself in his uncomfortable E.R seat. The article's not holding his attention very well. All around him are other people waiting to hear their loved ones' prognoses, and judging by their expressions, many of their situations are far more dire than Dean's. One guy in particular, who happens to be sitting next to Sam, is slumped in his chair with blood on his hands and looking very much like he might cry.

Sam Winchester, not a hospital fan but perpetually empathetic, slouches in his chair also and asks the guy, "Who're you waiting on?"

The guy looks up at him, looking for all the world as if he's forgotten where he is and that other people exist. He clears his throat and says, with difficulty, "My little brother." A beat. "He got shot."

Sam sits up with a wince. "Oh, man, I'm sorry. Was it bad?"

The guy's jaw clenches. "He got fucking shot, _hombre._ How bad you think it was?"

Sam winces again. "Sorry."

The guy waves one of his bloodstained hands dismissively. "Forget it." He runs one hand through his close-cropped hair and sighs, staring at the floor. "It's my fault. He should never even have been there."

Sam hesitates, then asked, "What happened?"

The guy shakes his head. "I shouldn'ta took him with me, you know? Shoulda left him at home with his rich mommy." He bites his lip. "Why'd he even wanna come? He don't even know me."

Sam shrugs, very slowly and uncomfortably. "I don't know." He pauses for a minute, then offers, "I'm waiting for my brother, too."

The guy looks up. "Oh, yeah? What happened to him?"

Sam rolls his eyes slightly. "Idiot broke his hand. He was fighting a--" Sam catches himself before he uses the word "demon" out loud and covers, badly, "--uh, someone he shouldn't have been fighting. Shattered most of the bones."

"Sounds rough." The guy says dryly. Sam's insides squirm with guilt. This guy's brother might be dying, and he's talking about Dean's hand. The guy doesn't seem to be offended, however. He cocks his head to the side and looks piercingly at Sam. "You guys tight?"

Sam considers this. "Uh, well...we were when we were kids. Not so much when we got older. But I think we're getting there. Y'know, again."

"That's cool." The guy says with a nod. "That's cool." It's quieter the second time he says it, and Sam can tell he's retreating back into his thoughts.

"Mr. Salazar?" A nurse asks. Sam startles a little, wondering how long she's been there. Another reason to hate hospitals: the staff are too sneaky. The guy looks up at her with a hopeful expression. She smiles back at him broadly. "The surgery went well. You can see your brother now."

The guy--Salazar--looks at her like she's an angel. "Is he okay?"

"Uh, he's asleep right now. The doctor will be able to tell you more." She gestures for him to follow her.

Salazar stands up and looks back at Sam with a relieved expression. "He's sleeping."

Sam smiles encouragingly. "You better go check on him."

"Yeah." Salazar replies, smiling to himself. "Yeah."

"It was nice talking to you." Sam offers politely.

"You too, homes." Salazar says, lightly slapping Sam on the shoulder. "You take care of your brother. Don't let him get in any more fights."

Sam chuckles slightly. "I won't."

Salazar clicks his tongue, firing an imaginary pistol made from his fingers at Sam, before turning and following the nurse. Sam smiles and settles back in his uncomfortable chair with his outdated magazines.

Maybe hospitals weren't the worst place in the world.


End file.
